Day: February 29, 2004

I don’t want readers to think I’m spending all my time worked up about Mel Gibson’s theology. In fact, I spent most of yesterday working with Vince on the rec-room in my house, which I’m trying to convert into a library/study of epic proportions. We made some pretty good strides with that reclamation project. Photos to come, when the room is finished.

Also, we managed to get The Heaviest Treadmill of All Time upstairs to my living room, so I can run while watching hoops, listening to the iPod or fulminating about Mel Gibson’s theology. Evidently, the makers of the LifeFitness Sport ST-55 thought it would be funny to incorporate dwarf-star matter into the construction of its treadmills.

While I did some final install stuff to the treadmill, Vince called me over to the dining room window. Three deer were outside, rooting through the leaves and grass (more leaves than grass, unfortunately). Two more wandered into view. He said, “You’ve got a herd of ’em!”

Then they heard a noise, and bolted for the woods, followed by four more. So, in total, there were nine deer meandering through my yard and looking for food. They move beautifully, like suggestions of motion, fluid then sharply zig-zagging. I continue to live a life of wonders.

Time to go sandpaper yesterday’s spackling work.

My coworker Jack liked the previous entry about the Passion, and wrote:

Jim has said well what so many of us try to say. I guess that’s what separates the men from the matzoh.

One minor observation in response to his comment about visiting Golgotha and feeling it, the weight of the slaughter. I was there a couple of years ago and there is no Golgotha. The christians built a church there. Actually, warring factions of christians built a pile of chapels there. No hill, no nothing. Just rooms with candles and incense and red and gold fabrics and every possible bit of religious crap you can imagine. So no, you can’t feel it there. What you do feel is your wallet, as you clutch it in a protective grasp.